Something You'll Never See on Kim Possible
by Allaine
Summary: Duff Killagan has an unusual opponent on the final green of the British Open.


Author's Note: This originally appeared on a thread at my Gargoyles ezboard titled "Things You'll Never See on Gargoyles". Lately a lot of KP-themed ideas have been cropping up, and this was a bizarre one I thought of called "Hudson and Duff Killagan in a sudden-death playoff hole at the British Open". Quick little humor fic with play-calling from the announcers of "Most Extreme Elimination Challenge" :D  
  
_____________________________________  
  
"I canna believe you cut me driver in half with that pig sticker of yours. That's it, I'm bringing me special golf balls now!"  
  
"I thought you'd appreciate a good slice."  
  
"So Tiger, how'd you miss that easy two-foot putt on 18?"  
  
"You think I wanted to finish in a three-way tie with these guys? Plus the old guy - his caddie scares me. I didn't know dogs got that big. Anyway, love to stick around, guys, but I need a stiff drink right now."  
  
"Thanks, Tiger. Anyway, Hudson is first to line up at the tee."  
  
"Bronx, fetch me ma three wood."  
  
"His caddy brings over his driver. You know, Kenny, while ball cleaners are common on golf courses, Hudson is the first pro golfer I've seen who needed a club cleaner."  
  
"Probably because he's the first pro golfer I've seen whose caddy slobbers all over the shaft."  
  
"Right you are, Ken. Hudson readies his first shot. That - doesn't appear to be a regular 3-wood, does it?"  
  
"No, actually it's iron."  
  
"An iron? This is a long par 4. Why is he using an iron?"  
  
"No, I mean it's made of iron. It's actually a mace. He told us before the day began that he got it on loan from someone named Dee Mona. He showed me a picture. Rowr!"  
  
"Down, Kenny. Now that you mention it, those are some wicked spikes on that mace. I guess he's not turning his back on Killagan without some kind of lethal weapon in his hands. He reaches back - swings - ooh, tough break!"  
  
"Yeah, as you can see, one of the spikes accidentally sliced the ball in half. That's going to be a lost ball penalty. Critical error on his part."  
  
"Hudson storms off and lets Killagan take the tee. Killagan seems to be in a pretty good mood now, and there appears to be some bantering back and forth."  
  
"Yu must be pretty dull-witted to use clubs so sharp, laddie!"  
  
"Where's your make-up? I thought you were a rouge golfer?"  
  
"That's rogue golfer, rogue golfer! You canna believe how many people get that wrong!"  
  
"Because you look like a lassie in that getup, Duff. Is Duff short for deep rough? Because that's where your ball's going!"  
  
"Killagan doesn't appear to be smiling any more, Kenny. In fact he appears to be seething as he puts the ball on the tee. Now Killagan has quite the criminal record. He first went to prison for his grass-growing activities."  
  
"Really? He grows pot?"  
  
"Kenny."  
  
"I wonder if he grows it just for personal use."  
  
"Kenny, we're going to miss his drive! And it's a beauty too, sailing right down the middle of the fairway!"  
  
BOOM!  
  
"Oops. Heh heh, I used me wrong ball."  
  
___________________________________________  
  
"For those of you just joining us, we're on the sudden death - "  
  
"And that's not just a figure of speech today either."  
  
"Indeed, Ken. The sudden death first playoff hole at the British Open, where rogue golfer Duff Killagan and gargoyle golfer Hudson are finally on the green. Both golfers are tied and over par, having each suffered lost ball penalties - one for beheading his ball, the other for disintegrating his. No matter who wins today, both Hudson and Killagan have confirmed they will be playing at the Scottish Open. Organizers have expressed an interest in keeping them away, but realistically, Kenny, how do you stop them? They are armed and dangerous, after all."  
  
"Maybe Hudson could bring that Dee with him. I'd do play-by-play for free!"  
  
"Right you are, Ken. Hudson could use a little help right now, though. Duff is a few moments away from taking what looks to be an easy four-foot putt, while Hudson is looking at an almost thirty-seven footer. If Duff makes this shot, Hudson will be hard-pressed to make his shot and force a second playoff hole."  
  
"Thank God."  
  
"Hah! I've got you by yuir beard now, old-timer! I'm gonna make this putt, and then I'm going to shove this putter up yuir BLEEP."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Indeed. Duff slowly lines up the putt and . . . "  
  
BOOM!  
  
"Och, not agaiinnn!!!"  
  
"Well . . . looks like Duff Killagan is blasting off again, Vic."  
  
"Right you are, Kenny. That's another lost ball penalty, which means if Hudson makes this shot, he's a winner!"  
  
"It shouldn't be that hard. The hole's twenty feet wide now."  
  
"You're right, it is, and Hudson casually drops the ball into the crater. Judges confer - it's official, Hudson wins the British Open!"  
  
"They probably didn't want to have to wait for Killagan to drag himself back here."  
  
"I imagine so. And Hudson lifts up the trophy."  
  
"This is for the clan I lost, because you may take our lives, but you'll never take our golf!"  
  
"NOOOO!!! That's ma trophy!!!"  
  
"Killagan is charging the green!"  
  
CLANG!  
  
"Aye, you wanted it, you got it."  
  
"That definitely left a mark."  
  
"On the trophy or his head?"  
  
The End. 


End file.
